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Chapter 3: The Beginning of Bareback Michael - Bareback Sex Stories

Tunnel

The wind that now cooled my face let me know that the time was up. I had stared out of the window at a skyline that seemed endless and now it was time to leave. I walked out of the bathroom and waited for the elevator. Once inside, I pushed the button for the first floor and felt a strange rush as I plummeted downwards. I walked into the lobby but the face I was searching for had now made everyone invisible. The revolving doors pushed me into a bright midday sun. Dozens of people streamed past but the one that mattered had disappeared into the canyon of buildings- a skyline that had once seemed endless, now loomed over me as if it was trapping my disappointment, suffocating me in it. I will confess that a part of me expected to see someone in a navy blue suit, crisp white shirt, well groomed, handsome profile leaning against a tall building that we had just been near the top of. But as I turned in either direction, I realized I was completely alone.

Upon arriving home, I walked into the living room. Music from the radio was playing and a woman's voice sang along with it. An indescribably beautiful voice. The one that belonged to my mother. My mood remained unchanged. She was pressing an iron into a pair of black slacks and the steam hissed angrily from the tip of the silver nose. She looked up and watched me cross the room towards the window. "What's wrong", she said, placing the iron down firmly. "Nothing" I replied, plopping down onto my favorite chair, legs draping over the sides. I closed my eyes and pulled my hair back. Something warm and soft landed over my face and I pulled it off. A pair of black cotton briefs dangled from my fingers. "You should try wearing them sometime" she said, one of her eyebrows raised taking attention away from a grin she was hiding. I jumped up from the chair and began walking towards my room. "They're not mine, they're Sean's" I said, throwing them back to her. A familiar ritual had begun...

Whenever I was upset, my mother would always try and make me laugh. Aside from possessing an amazing voice, she had a way with words. Maybe that's where I learned to love reading so much. In any case, I would pretend to ignore her and wait until she did something so ridiculous, it would finally bring a smile to my face. As a victory lap, she would pinch my lips and smile. I was convinced it was the one thing that my mother truly loved about me. An hour went by and there was no knock on the door. No silly remarks or outrageous requests. When I finally emerged from my room, I walked into the living room. The iron was now resting silently on the floor, coils of black chord like a snake resting quietly on the wooden floor. Piles of clothes were folded neatly and several pairs of slacks and shirts hung on a metal wrack. In the chair I had occupied earlier, my mother lay motionless, resting. I walked over to where she slept and pushed her hair from her eyes, gently kissing her forehead. She was my entire world and I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her once more for good measure.


In the darkness of my room, I began undressing for bed. After pulling my shirt and pants off, I stood in front of a full-length mirror that rested against a wall. The image staring back at me was barely visible, somehow comforting. I bent over to pick up something on the floor and watched myself, how easily I could reach to the floor without even bending my knees. My hand now ran from the lower part of my back to the silouhette of a divide. My fingers sliding into the crack of something warm and inviting. Moving further down, I gripped a large sac in my hands, two large balls dangling impossibly low. Suddenly, I straightened up. Am I out of my fucking mind?, I thought. Now, in the cloudy reflection, I could see something pointing straight out, twitching, as it grew in length. I walked over to my door and made sure it was closed. Before falling off to sleep, an image took hold. An image of a dark navy blue suit, an empty elevator, yellow light giving the suit an irresistible glow, the bulge of something pushing towards a belt, moving it upwards, when only the two of us remained in a tiny closed off space that moved upwards with no intentions of stopping.

Two weeks later, I found myself at a party for someone I had gone to High School with. Obviously, a lot of people I had gone to school with were there and everyone seemed to be talking about what college they were going to and the classes they were taking, the professors they thought were cool, and the clubs they'd joined. I felt more and more out of place as it became apparent that a lot of the people I had gone to high school with were also beginning to date. I walked off to a small room that was occupied by a group, 3 guys and two girls. When I walked in, the conversation grew noticeably quieter but I didn't care. I didn't really know them and they certainly didn't know me. Someone pulled out a small plastic bag filled with marijuana. "Here", one of the guys said, passing a cigar to the young woman who stood up with the bag in her hand. She took it from him and now walked towards me. "Wanna help me roll this?", she said, although I knew it wasn't a question. "Yeah, sure", I said. She walked past me and I followed behind. We made our way to the bathroom, closing the door behind us.

It did not take long to break up the small, fragrant green leaves and once things were ready, I took the cigar paper and ran my tongue over the length of it. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her staring at me and I put the cigar paper down. She filled the cigar and I finished rolling it out into a long brown cylindrical blunt. As I pulled the cigar out of my mouth for the last time, she looked at me and smiled, shaking her head. I threw her a questioning gesture but she only shook her head in return. "You have no idea, do you", she remarked, before turning and leaving the bathroom. When we got back into the room, I took a lighter and burnt the end of the blunt, a red ember signaling the beginning of the smoke we were about to share. Fifteen minutes later, everyone was either laughing at something or completely relaxing in the warm confines of the room. I watched as my fingers gripped a tiny end of the marijuana cigar and the red glow brightened as I inhaled. The sweetest smoke filled my lungs and I held it for a few seconds before exhaling. It was almost time to leave.

In the hallway, I paused to get myself together before heading outside. The young woman that had rolled the cigar with me now came out into the hallway. "Are you okay", she said, pulling up to where I stood. "Yeah, just a little tired". "I'm Nicole" she said, extending her hand towards me. I looked at her and held out my hand, "I'm Michael".

Nicole and I talked for a little while until it was time for me to leave. Before leaving, I ran to the bathroom and closed the door. A mirror was placed on one of the walls adjacent to where I now stood. The only light in the entire apartment came from candles that were placed in every room, the bathroom included. My head was very cloudy at this point and as I let everything go, I could feel a rush of warm water falling into the toilet. In the mirror, a reflection of something long and swollen bobbed back and it seemed as if I would be there all night, draining fluids from somewhere deep inside of me. It felt incredible and when the last few drops came, I could feel my eyes moisten with pleasure. I shook it and somehow, it wasn't finished yet. The sound of water hitting water resumed and when it finished, I nearly fell over the toilet. My entire body felt warm and I stood without moving for a few seconds. I pushed it back into place along the right side of my leg and zipped my pants up. Now it was time to go.

I grabbed the small black duffle bag I had brought and said goodnight to everyone. Standing near the door, Nicole turned to say goodnight. "Listen, if you wanna hang out sometime, I can give you my number", she said, hesitating awkwardly. "I mean, only if you want to or whatever". She turned away quickly. "Sure" I said, not even hearing the words coming out of my mouth. I took her number and walked out into the street. It was hot outside but something told me that things were about to change. It would only be a matter of time before the cold returned.

Walking towards the subway, things passed by me as if in a dream. Two guys, very attractive, held hands and one was laughing. An older woman struggled to get across the street and watched the two of them in disapproval. A paper cup went flying out of a car that tore down the road, music pouring from its darkened windows. Like small fluorescent sun, a newsstand lit up an otherwise dark street. Magazines with covers that read "America braces herself for a new round of terror attacks" and, "when will you know you're in love?" were piled up in bundles for the fearful or curious. I walked past it and descended a set of steps before entering the train station.

While I stood against a light olive green steel pillar, a huge rat waddled from beneath the platform and onto the tracks. I now had another reason for hoping the train would arrive quickly, imagining its wheels running over the middle of the rat's body as it tried in vain to escape. Perhaps slicing off the tail, hopefully beheading it cleanly and swiftly. I looked back up and several pillars away, something caught my attention. For the first time all evening, my heart beat for reasons other than those having to do with basic survival. I turned away and quickly turned back again, this time allowing myself to look down. I drew a quick breath involuntarily, silently- full red lips parted giving the only indication of my true feelings.

Tall, slender, black hair that curled around his ears. Funny looking pants that seemed more in place at church. A crisp white shirt with a notepad and pen tucked in the breast pocket. Shiny black shoes, size 14, I guessed excitedly to myself. I moved closer to get a better look. Although the outfit seemed out of place, the person wearing it did not. He was staring intently at the wall across from where he stood, deep in thought. Something was out of place but I couldn't put my finger on it. The sound of steel rolling over steel broke the moment and a rush of air, barely perceptible, swept towards the platform. An arrival and a departure that would happen instantaneously. Staring into the tunnel, I could see a light growing brighter as the train drew closer. I turned and the train that now rushed past in a fury, wheels screeching its mass to a halt, eclipsed the unmistakeable profile of someone who did not seem happy. He's beautiful, the only thought I could muster at that point. As the train came to a halt, I realized in horror that it wasn't my train. The doors opened and he walked in. I had a decision to make and I had about two more seconds to make it. I froze and watched as he leaned against the doors on the opposite side. I took one last glance and made my decision. The train doors closed...

When I was eleven, my mother decided it was time for all of us, all of us being my brother and I, to take a road trip to New Hampshire. At the time, I thought it represented a complete loss of her sense. I fought with my brother the entire time and wound up vomiting on the side of the road somewhere in New England. I was beginning to think that my mother was having very mixed feelings about. The duration for how long she got on my nerves seemed to be increasing by the day. When we got to the cabin we had rented, the first thing that struck both of us was how clean the air was. Fresh pine carried by a cool wind. My brother and I took off and found a river whose water was cold enough to turn veins dark blue. Fresh enough to drink. We found a small cliff on one side of a railroad bridge that crossed the river below. When we got to the top of it, I got dizzy from looking over the edge. "Let's jump", my older brother said, pulling off his jeans and sneakers. I looked over the edge. "No way", I said. He stood at the edge for a second and then jumped. Michaaaaaaeeeeelllllllll, he screamed the entire way down, until his body disappeared beneath an explosion of cold water. I looked over the edge. A body tore through the surface and reached a hand up. "Cmon, it's not bad", he screamed up. I pulled my jeans and sneakers off. Clutching my arms around my chest, I looked down one last time. "Cmon, Mike, it's amazing", he said, a huge smile across his face. I walked to the edge, pushing at the sand with my toes. I stood over the edge and took one final look. "Cmon' Mike", he said, looking up now in earnest. I closed my eyes and tightened my body, heart pounding, seconds before deciding...

...

The train car felt as if it was being illuminated by sunrays. I remembered I was still stoned. There he was, standing directly in front of me now. Tall, arms crossed over one another, huge hands gripping each of his arms. Long neck with a smooth voice box jutting out carefully. I tried to imagine what his voice might have sounded like. Maybe I'll ask for directions- I am on the wrong train anyway, I thought to myself. My eyes went back to his hands and then downwards. Pants that should have looked strange seemed to fit perfectly, almost too perfectly. The next stop came and in the exchange of passengers, I quickly took at seat. I grabbed the silver pole at the edge of the bench I was on and looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He was staring at the window opposite of where he stood. What could he be looking at?, I wondered. The train came to a stop in the middle of the tunnel and now, he was reaching up for a flyer that had been wedged into the side of an ad. He unfolded it, and looked at it intently. His face darkened and he crumpled it up in his hands and threw it on the subway floor. I looked away. He was very attractive but something was not adding up. When my eyes felt brave, the only thing they could muster was a glance at a crumpled piece of paper, a flyer, near a large shiny black shoe.

Across from him, I sat with my duffle bag over my lap, hands folded over the bag, legs spread apart, feet vibrating gently with the rumble of the wheels over the steel tracks. Inside of the bag, a copy of short stories from one of the most amazing authors ever, rested heavily. Four of my favorite short stories piled together on top of one another. Thousands of pages of amazing literature. Stories of dark emotions and twisted passions, misguided intentions, loyalty, friendship, death, sex, desire. I looked over at where he was standing and I saw it. I had to sit up a bit in case my mind, or my eyes, were playing tricks. He had reached into his pocket and now pulled out something that had been carefully folded up. Strong, delicate fingers carefully unwrapped a folded piece of paper. I could see something in his eyes change and I wished I more than anything I could see what he was looking at. His eyes changed and I dropped my glance. It was as if I had seen something I shouldn't have. Something more sacred than family, or loyalty.

Without realizing it, I had begun pressing down on the duffel bag, on the short stories, something now resisting the unyielding strength of paper. Thousands of pages. Something that was stretching farther and farther beneath it all. A long outline of an expanding river. My eyes narrowed as I looked over at his pants, the same transformation taking place. The same flood. I pressed down harder and my legs began trembling. Uncontrollably trembling. The train was now coming above ground and I became frightened, thinking he might get out at the very next stop. The station approached and when the doors had closed before pulling off, he stood there, staring at the picture, a look of something I could not describe etched across his face. Now, I pressed the bag down harder, the trembling, working its way up my body. I looked at his pants and what had started as an outline had now grown to an incredible length. He buried one of his hands in his pockets and I could see him grip it, as much of it as he was able to. I pressed down harder and realized I was breathing heavily through a closed mouth. My eyes grew moist as my body began throbbing. I knew I couldn't stare forever so I closed my eyes. With an image burned into my mind, I continued pressing.

Now I imagined someplace dark where there was no one. I imagined being pushed onto my back and I could see it being taken out of his pants. It bobbed in front of me and pressed into something that had never experienced it before. Hands grabbing the place where my upper and lower legs met, pushing them towards me, pushing its way inside. I blinked my eyes open and stared one last time. I pressed down harder on the pages and as I watched his hand, I realized what the other bulge was. I pressed down hard on the book and an explosion of warmth, a pulsing ejaculation that wouldn't stop caused me to arch my body, the rumbling of the train sending pleasure through every fiber of my body. I licked my lips to keep my mouth from opening too wide and realized my entire mouth was trembling as well. Something warm and sticky was shooting over my left leg and as I pressed down for the last time, the river flooding its banks, washing over everything. The train pulled up to the next stop and the man I had been looking at, abruptly wheeled around and left, the doors closing behind him, long black hair that protected dark secrets, I thought to myself.

This short story about bareback sex was written by Bareback.com and is intellectual property of Bareback.com. You may not copy this article without permission of the owners.

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